And the Rushing Tide
by The Black Sun's Daughter
Summary: Cassandra isn't sure who suggested the 'victory round' after their latest escapade, but she's almost certain that it's Jake's idea. She's never played any kind of drinking game before, though, but really, how bad could it be?
1. Inexorable as the Tides

_"A dam may hold for a hundred years, but once it develops a chink, the rushing tide comes after."_  
—Jaqueline Carey, _Kushiel's Chosen_

It starts off with a single question:

"You ever played a drinking game?"

Cassandra is caught off-guard by the question for a second; she's still, even now, months later, getting used to the fact that she works with people that actually _want_ to talk to her and enjoy her company. "N-no, I haven't," she replies.

Jake grins and gestures to the empty chair beside him. Ezekiel, Flynn, and Eve are already sitting down, and she sits down with them. She isn't sure who suggested the 'victory round' after their latest escapade, but she's almost certain that it was Jake's idea. "C'mon, it'll be fun," he coaxes, trying to get rid of the slightly disapproving look on their Guardian's face.

"What are we playing?" Cassandra asks.

Ezekiel leans forward, a wicked smile coming to his face. "Ever played Ten Fingers?" he asks, and Eve, Flynn, and Jake all groan together.

"You can't do that for her first drinking game, Jones," Jake protests.

"Hey, live a little. It'll be fun. Go get the stash. Hands up, everybody."

Cassandra holds up both hands, wondering what the rules are. She's never played any kind of drinking game before. She's only really gotten drunk once before, too, when she was seventeen and vowed to never do that again. Jake comes back with a bottle that's had its label picked off and sets it in the middle of the table before retaking his seat at her left, holding up his hands.

"Alright, I'll start," Ezekiel says once they're all sitting.

She has a brief second of panic, nobody's explained the rules yet, but Jake nudges her with an elbow. "You'll catch on quick. It's like never-have-I-ever. Someone says something they've never done before, and if you've done it, you put a finger down and take a drink. Last person with fingers up wins. Simple," he explains, then adds with a laugh, "We used to play in high school at parties, but we always made the questions about sex."

"We'll save that for a later round. So, me first, we'll work left around the table." Ezekiel cocks his head with a contemplative hum. "I've never...eaten an apple before."

"Unhealthy," Eve says immediately.

"Abomination," Jake mutters, shaking his head.

"Wait, but..." Cassandra trails off, confused, as the bottle goes around the table and everyone takes a sip.

Ezekiel grins smugly as Flynn slides the bottle to her. "The opportunity has never presented itself."

Flynn shakes his head too. "I swear, he's never eaten an apple just to win at this stupid game," he says.

She stares down in the bottle for a second, uncertain. But she wants to be accepted, wants to be friends with them. And if this is the way to do it... She takes a deep breath, raises it to her lips, and takes a hard swig. And comes up choking, burning all the way down in sour yellow-red zigzags, holding the bottle out blindly to her left. Jake takes the bottle and grins. "Nice one," he says approvingly, then takes a swallow and makes a face too.

Eve is next, and she looks at the thief with a smug grin of her own as she says, "I've never dyed my hair red before," and Ezekiel scowls unhappily, surrendering a finger and taking a drink.

When he puts the bottle down, he says defensively, "It was a bad period in my life, and we do not speak of it outside this circle."

"Wh-what is that?" she asks Jake in an undertone as Flynn goes next ("I've never flown a plane.")

"It's all the leftovers of all the other bottles that nobody ever finishes. And something that Jenkins made. I don't like to think about it," he answers quietly.

It's her turn, and Cassandra freezes a moment, uncertain of what to say, but then she declares, "I've never played a drinking game before now."

"And you call me a cheater," Ezekiel grumbles as they all surrender a finger.

They go around the table twice more, and Cassandra is definitely feeling the alcohol now, fuzzy and warm around the edges, little spots of numbers starting to wink around the edges of her vision, but she doesn't let those bother her yet. It's Flynn's turn, and if anything, he's more of a lightweight than she is. The Librarian has a wide-eyed moment, obviously struggling to find something to say, so finally, he blurts, "I've never had sex with a man."

Cassandra giggles and puts down a finger, so does Eve and Ezekiel. And, to everyone's shock, so does Jake.

Eventually, it gets down to just her and Flynn, and she wins. There's a lot of things that she hasn't done, and after ten years as a Librarian, there's plenty of things that he has done. She wins when she says, "I've never met a vampire." By that time, Flynn is actually swaying his chair, and Eve's watching him with amusement, waiting for him to finally tip sideways and lose the fight with gravity. Ezekiel is watching their back-and-forth like a tennis match, a little glassy-eyed himself. The only one who appears entirely sober is Jake, who apparently has a constitution to match his surname.

"Alright, that's enough fun for one night. I'm going to bed before I do anything I regret more than the hangover in the morning," Eve says, getting to her feet and pulling Flynn up with her.

"S' a good idea," Ezekiel agrees, and when he gets to his feet, he forgets which one is which and falls right back into his chair, bursting out in laughter.

Jake rolls his eyes and stands, coming around to pull Ezekiel upright. "Bunch-a featherweights, what you are," he chortles. "G'night, Cassie. I'll get Mr. Awesome here to bed before he falls over. Think you got it?" he asks, and she waves him off affirmatively.

Once they leave the table, Cassandra gets to her feet, having to grip the back of her chair for a moment. She toddles her way down the hallway in the direction she thinks her bedroom is, but she must not be paying much attention, because she's in the wrong corridor, the one that leads to the boys' rooms, not hers. Trying to clear her head, she stops for a moment, hoping to get her bearings back, when she hears Jake's voice talking low, and Ezekiel's, too, and from the sound of it, they are probably just around the corner there. Curiosity getting the better of her, she inches closer to the corner, and she leans against the wall, focusing on their words.

"So...is it true?" That's Ezekiel. "The good ol' boy from down south has played a game on the other team?"

Jake laughs a little, and the rich sound of it makes her skin feel all flushed and tingly. "Yeah, Jones, I have. Y'know, not everybody from the south is homophobic," he replies, not defensively, merely stating facts, sounding almost _amused,_ even.

"I know that. Just...never would've pegged you for the type, that's all." She agrees with Ezekiel there. If anybody had asked her before tonight, she'd have said Jake is straight as they came.

"And why's that?" Maybe she's just hearing things, but she thinks Jake's voice has dipped a little lower than before.

"Uhm...cause you're _you,_ mate. You don't exactly set off anyone's gaydar, okay?"

"That right?" Now she's _certain_ his voice is lower, and huskier too.

There's a pause, and when Ezekiel speaks again, his voice is softer too, a little unsteady. "Y-yeah."

"You might wanna rethink that one, _mate,"_ Jake answers, and Ezekiel kind of yelps, and there's a muffled thump and a low, throaty noise that could've come from either one of them.

Cassandra leans forward a little, craning her neck to peek around the corner...and nearly falls over.

Jake has Ezekiel pressed hard against the wall, and he's kissing the thief like there's no tomorrow, one hand on his hip, the other clenched in his hair. Ezekiel grips Jake's shoulders tightly with both hands, attempting to climb the man like a tree. Jake pulls away first, but he just turns his attention to Ezekiel's neck instead, and the younger man audibly whimpers when Jake presses one thigh between his legs.

 _That's fucking hot,_ Cassandra thinks, surprising herself but still being too drunk to care. Both their heads turn towards her, and she realises belatedly that she must've said that out loud. She stands there at the end of the hallway, leaning against the corner for balance, and there's this _look_ in Jake's eyes that keeps her from bolting. His eyes are dark, the blue deepening to a colour like the ocean at storm, full of hunger, a hunting hawk watching a sparrow. Finally, he raises one hand from Ezekiel's waist and holds it out towards her, two fingers making a small come-hither gesture. And she does. Not sure why she does, given that he's still got Ezekiel clinging to him like a limpet, but she does. Nobody's ever looked at her like _that_ before, like she's the feast in front of a starving man, like he'd put her against the wall and have her right there if he could.

Ezekiel's watching her, too, and how about that, he's got that same look on his face, dark eyes darting from her to Jake anticipatorily. When she's close enough, Jake snakes an arm around her waist and pulls her in flush to them. They're pressed together so close that she can't touch one without brushing against the other. And then he leans in kiss her. She's been kissed before, or she thought she had. Nothing like this. His hand slides around to the nape of her neck, fingers clenching around her hair as he parts her lips with his own, tongue curling into her mouth, exploring every inch. Her hands come up, fluttering uncertainly against his chest, his shoulders, before clasping over the back of his neck. She feels another hand on her waist, smaller and not as rough as Jake's, and she knows it's Ezekiel.

When he pulls back, she sways towards him, breathing quick and hard. He's put Ezekiel down, the thief standing on his own two feet again, and with his hand still in her hair, Jake angles her towards the other man, applying gentle pressure to urge her forward. Not that she needs it. She's been denying it since she met them, but she finds both of them attractive and has had more than a few very _interesting_ dreams involving one or the other.

Nobody told her that both is an option, too, though.

Ezekiel tastes different than Jake, like heat and sweet spices, but with the lingering tang of alcohol she's sure they all carry at the moment. He's no less passionate, though, his hand on her waist sliding to the small of her back, pulling her closer. As they break for air, quietly cursing the human need for oxygen at regular intervals, Jake puts an arm around each of them. "Dunno about you two, but I think we should move to somewhere a bit more comfortable. And private," he says in a low growl, dark eyes sliding down the length of her body before sweeping up Ezekiel's, and she knows exactly what he wants privacy for.

And surprisingly enough, there's no hesitation in her voice when she replies, "Lead the way."

* * *

She isn't entirely sure how exactly she ended up on the bed, or even when they got to the bedroom or whose bedroom it is, but she doesn't really care because Ezekiel is kissing her like he's never getting another chance, tongue exploring every inch of her mouth, and Jake is trailing his lips across her belly as he unfastens her garters, reaching up under her skirt to peel her stockings down her legs. Hands are drawing open her blouse, too, and she isn't entire sure whose they are, but so long as it's coming off, she's okay with it. Ezekiel pulls his mouth from hers, both of them gasping, and he bows his dark head down to her breasts instead, pulling her bra down out of the way, straps sliding down her arms. His warm, wet tongue laves across her nipple, circling around once, twice, before drawing her breast into his mouth. She buries her hands in his shaggy hair, holding him in place as a soft cry escapes her lips. His fingertips skim feather-light across her skin, teasing brushes that raise gooseflesh wherever they touch, and his mouth moves from her left breast to her right. Just as suddenly, though, he's sitting up and pulling away, leaving her aching in his absence, sitting back with a grin on his face, and she follows his eyes downward.

Jake is kneeling at the end of the bed between her knees, sliding his hands up and down her bare legs, exploring the backs of her knees and her inner thighs, and pressing kisses to her skin. She glances down through her lashes, and he's watching her face just as closely. He doesn't say anything, but she knows he's asking permission, wanting to know if it is too much or if it's safe to keep going. Cassandra nods once, and he grins.

He undoes the snap of her skirt, dragging it down her legs and casting it aside to join the rest of their clothes on the floor, and her underwear follow right after the skirt. Cassandra tilts her head back with a sigh as Jake lowers his head to press a kiss to the side of her knee, then another, and another, gradually inching his way up her thighs, lavishing attention on each leg as he ascends. He rubs his cheek against her inner thigh like a cat, pressing soft kisses up to their apex. Cassandra gasps out a low, throaty sound, one of her hands coming free of Ezekiel's to grasp Jake's hair when he finally slides his tongue into her sex. She whimpers, spine bowing in a delicious shudder-arch, because dear God, the things this man can do with his _tongue..._. Apparently, slinging all that poetry is good for something after all. Right when the warm weight begins growing between her legs, he lifts his head, earning a small cry of dismay from her lips. "You taste like honey, Cassie," he growls as he ascends the bed to kiss her. Ezekiel leans away and removes the rest of his clothes in a flurry. "You smell like strawberries, but you taste like goddamned honey," he rumbles out, then presses his lips to hers, his tongue plunging into her mouth and allowing her to taste herself.

Wrapping his big hands around her waist, he flips her onto her stomach and lifts her onto her hands and knees. She lets out a startled gasp when he dips one hand between her thighs, sliding his fingers back, using her own wetness to lubricate himself and his chosen entrance, teasing with his fingers. Curling one arm around her waist, he leans over her, his chest pressed to her back, and she whimpers as he aligns their bodies and begins to press into her.

Cassandra groans a little, sinking her teeth in her lower lip; she's never done this before, tense and difficult. "Shh, easy, darlin'. C'mon, now, easy," Jake mutters in her ear, his voice taut as he slowly works his hips, moving deeper into her, which isn't easy to do, given that she's so tense. "C'mon, baby, relax for me. I ain't gonna hurt you." He growls softly, then bites down on the back of her neck _hard_ , hard enough to leave a lasting mark.

She gasps a little, then moans as a rush of absolute pleasure swept over her after the sting of pain. In her head, she somehow reaches that place she needs to be in order to go completely slack in his arms, body loosening, and he eases into her up to the hilt. "That's a good girl. That's my darlin'," he sighs happily. For a moment, he leans over her, the weight of his body pressing against her back, and small movements of his hips keep her whimpering under him, pushing back against him.

After a moment, Jake sits upright and holds her up with his arms around her. He doesn't move against her, only small twitches keeping him from being completely still inside her, and he uses one knee to push her legs further apart, like an offering for Ezekiel, who's been watching the scene unfold with dark eyes. The thief rises onto his knees, hands sliding down her front feather-light before dipping between her legs, teasing at the sensitive flesh of her core. He lifts his fingers to his lips, licking them clean, and she whimpers a little. "What's she taste like, Zeke?" Jake rumbles, mouth pressed over the back of her neck, sucking on the bite mark he's made, still not moving within her.

"Honey. Damned if you aren't right," Ezekiel agrees. He moves closer and slowly pushes into her, deeper until he's completely sheathed in her warmth, feeling her inner walls flutter and tighten around him. Cassandra keens low in her throat, back arching at the sensation of both of them inside her at the same time. "Oh, fucking hell," he hisses out quietly. "S' bloody tight."

"Tell me about it," Jake agrees. "Think you can move with me, Zeke?"

"Right with you, cowboy."

Arms sliding around her waist, Jake begins to move, and Ezekiel moves with him, withdrawing slowly from her body before filling her, over and over again, kissing her neck, her shoulders, her mouth. Jake has his forehead against her shoulder, breath hot and humid between her shoulder blades, his arms clutched tight around her waist, and Ezekiel's running his hands over every inch of her he can reach, and Jake, too. Cassandra cries out helplessly, unable to do much else than cling to them, gasping and shaking. It's too much, senses overloaded yet hyperaware of everything, every little touch and movement, pleasure bordering on pain. Colours and sounds and scents blur together in her head, filling her skull with music and light, pulsing in time with their bodies, but it's the sensation of touch that is most overwhelming, setting her aflame, fire in her blood and lightning in her nerves, exploding anew at each slight brush of contact. She's aware of every inch of them inside her, moving in an exquisite torment of ecstasy.

"Oh, _oh,_ fuck," Jake pants out, his pace quickening, and he presses his face into the back of her shoulder, muffling a string of expletives on her skin. He moans louder, a noise that might be her name, and then she can feel his warmth spill into her body, smoothing his hands down her sides to her hips, fingertips digging in hard. Cassandra cries out again as the desirous wave that's been steady building within her suddenly crests and crashes, splintering apart in their arms, all the pieces of herself pushing against her body's borders, almost too much to hold. Ezekiel lets out a choked noise, his frame tensing as the tightening of her inner walls breaks him too, gripping her tight enough to bruise when he comes, hips stuttering, pushing against hers.

They collapse into a hot, sweaty tangle on the damp bedsheets, Cassandra pinned between them. With some wriggling, they manage to come apart, but that's all they are capable of doing, lying otherwise still as they try to catch their collective breath. And then they are all asleep, arms still around each other, sweat drying on their skin.


	2. The Consciousness of Loving

Cassandra wakes up slowly, fuzzily, with a dull discomfort behind her temples, one that's easily ignored. As far as hangovers go, it isn't that bad, definitely not as bad as when she was seventeen. She's not in her own room, she knows, because the sheets feel different against her skin, and there's a distinctively masculine scent clinging to the bed. But she's warm, and there's an arm curled over her waist, a strong body curved up against her back. She's never woken up to being held by someone before, and she snuggles back into the gentle embrace happily, smiling when she feels the arm around her waist tighten slightly in response.

Suddenly, the events of last night come back to her, and she opens her eyes, swallowing hard. Cassandra blushes as she becomes aware of the delicious aching that's settled into her form in a few unimaginable places and quite a few imaginable ones, too, a sweet, heavy languor seeping into her bones. And then the potential consequences of last night's activities begin to list themselves alphabetically in her head. _Anger, brawling, contention, disputes..._ By the time she reaches _pregnancy_ and remembers that she's on the pill, she's given herself three separate panic attacks.

"Shh. Baby, relax. I can hear your brain working itself up from here," Jake murmurs against the nape of her neck, and she turns over to look at him, lying at her back with a drowsy smile playing at his lips, blue eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction and contentment. "Zeke went to get breakfast. I offered to make some, but picky little punk needs some kind of science experiment for coffee that I ain't gonna be responsible for," he says, explaining the thief's absence from the bed before she can ask if he ran away from them. He turns over onto his back and stretches his entire body, arms above his head, spine arching like a cat.

Cassandra nods slowly, feeling her mouth go a little dry at the sight of him, all tanned skin and firm muscle. Then a curl of despair wiggles its way into her chest and burrows down next to her heart, curling there like a venomous serpent; there's no way that he can possibly want her. Last night, they had all been drunk, it must be some kind of fluke, the chance to live out some kind of threesome fantasy.

"Whoa, what's wrong?" Jake asks in concern; her expression had given away her thoughts.

She sinks her teeth in her lower lip and looks down at the bedsheets, tangled and twisted around her waist. "Last night...last night wasn't a mistake...was it?" she asks in a small voice, picking at the edge of the sheets. "I mean, it wasn't...it wasn't just...a bucket list kind of thing?"

"Cassie," Jake says, his voice slightly sad and admonishing at the same time. He sits up a little against the pillows and reaches out to catch her hands in his. "Cassie. Sugar, look at me," he murmurs and waits until her eyes rise to his face. "Last night was arguably the best night of my life. It was _not_ some kind of one-off or a male fantasy thing." He paused and contemplated his own words. "Okay, well, yeah, it kind of was, but not the way you're thinking. We wouldn't do that to you." Lifting a hand, he brushes some of her tangled hair back out of her face, leaving his work-callused palm resting against her cheek. "We were with you because we wanted to be, and because you wanted us, too. You're our girl now. Well...ya' know, if...if you wanna be."

Sniffling a little, she leans her head into his hand and blinks back the tears that've suddenly welled in her eyes. Nobody ever said something like that before, not to her, not meaning it. "I-I'd like that," she murmurs softly.

"Attagirl. Don't cry, honey. We ain't goin' nowhere," he soothes, brushing his thumb beneath her eye and catching the dampness that's accumulated on her lashes. He leans down to kiss her, and Cassandra surrenders happily to the warm press of his lips on hers, opening for his tongue. She raises both arms, fingers curling into his soft hair, and she shivers as his warm hand slides under the sheets to palm one breast, callused thumb brushing over her nipple. Jake shifts his body, moving over her, placing one knee between her thighs and then the other, and she opens her legs for him to settle down between, lying flush against her, and Cassandra can feel his arousal pressed against the most intimate parts of her body, still tender from last night.

"Jake," she whispers softly, arms coming up around his neck.

"You're our girl now, Cassie. I promise. We aren't leaving you." He kisses her again, and she whimpers into his mouth when he slides into her, fitting together just right. He holds himself up on both elbows, and she runs her hands across his body like she wanted to last night, exploring his chest, his shoulders, his back, learning the shape of him, the texture of his skin, the contours of his muscles, flexing and rippling as he moves, working in and out of her. She wraps her legs around his hips, holding him tightly to her. He moves slowly, drawing it out, and Cassandra holds tightly to him as she feels her climax welling from someplace deeper within her than she even knew she had, able to do no more than cling to him and shudder at the force of it. And he goes rigid against her, inside her, and she feels the violent tremble play down the whole length of his backbone before he shivers and spills into her.

For a moment, he lays atop her heavy and warm, catching his breath as she does the same; after a moment, he lifts his head and kisses her. "Now we definitely need a shower," he murmurs softly. "I'll wash your back if you wash mine."

Cassandra smiles. "Whoever can walk first can have the shower," she replies.

Jake chortles back, and she can feel the vibration against her breast. "Good point. Maybe a bath." He rolls off her, earning a soft whimper from her when he pulls out, even that little bit of stimulation against her sensitive flesh almost too much.

The door clicks softly, and they both raise their heads as Ezekiel comes in, holding a pink box and a carry tray of coffee cups. Cassandra isn't sure what she expects from him—jealousy, regret, discontent—but he takes one look at them, flushed and satisfied, and scowls mockingly. "Oi, where's my good-morning shag, then?" he demands playfully, setting the box and tray down on the dresser.

Jake smirks back, propping himself up one elbow. "Hey, you wanted to get breakfast. Whoever said 'you snooze, you lose' has clearly never heard of morning sex," he answers, then grins and pats the empty stretch of mattress on his other side. "Still room for you to join, though."

Cassandra holds up a hand as Ezekiel comes towards the bed. "Down, boys. I am sore and sweaty and sticky. I need a shower and some recovery time before I'm up for another round, okay?"

Ezekiel and Jake aren't fazed, however. "Go have a shower, then, kitten, and me and the cowboy will keep ourselves occupied until you're back," the thief replies with a smile.

Laughing, she slides out of the bedsheets, wincing a little as a few new achy spots make themselves known, and limps a little into the bathroom. The hot water is mercy on her sore muscles, and she leans against the cool tile wall of the shower as she thinks of everything that had unfolded last night, of all it might entail. Could she really do this, be with two men at the same time?

Yes. She can. She's liked Jake and Ezekiel for a long time now, almost since she met them, really, and she's never liked one more than the other. Maybe because they were so different. Jake is her security, her comfort and anchor, someone she knows will pull her to safety, but Ezekiel is her adrenalin rush, her daring and adventure, someone who will very gladly get into trouble with her. She isn't sure what she is to them, but maybe they will make this work, able to strike a balance between each other in their differences. She isn't sure of that, either, but she's spent most of her life afraid, and she's not going to be afraid anymore. She has her boys now, and she's not going to let them go so easy.

Smiling, she finishes washing her hair and steps out of the shower, not certain what she's going to find in the other room.

It's not what she expects. Jake is sitting up against the headboard with pillows behind his back, and he's got the pink box Ezekiel brought open on his lap, the thief himself leaning against Jake's side, holding his coffee cup in one hand. "Unbelievable," Ezekiel is saying as she walks in. "He's got the choice of sex or food, and he picks food."

"Hey, you want sex, you shouldn't bring Voodoo Doughnuts," Jake replies, licking crumbs off his fingertips.

"And if either of you ever want sex with me again, there better some left for me," Cassandra says, only half-joking, and the historian obediently holds out the box. "Good boys." She picks out one of the sweet, sprinkle-coated confections and settles against Jake's other side. He wraps an arm around her shoulder, heedless of her damp hair. She looks over at Jake and Ezekiel and laughs softly.

"What?" Ezekiel asks.

"Are we really going to do this? The three of us?" she asks.

Jake presses a kiss to her temple. "I told you, sugar. We're yours if you want us. Dunno if Zeke's in the same boat, but personally? I've thought about this a long time. Just didn't think you'd be willing."

Ezekiel huffs a small laugh and rests his cheek against Jake's shoulder. "We're in the same boat, then, mate. I didn't think you two were both gonna be up for it."

"Just so you know, though, sugar, we're not particularly graceful losers, me an' him," Jake warns.

"So you're saying, either we do this together or not at all?" Cassandra asks, looking between thief and historian.

The two exchange a glance, bistre eyes meeting columbine blue. "Yes," they say in unison. They both knew each other well enough by now to understand they were both sore losers, but they could share, at least in this, with her.

Cassandra looks between them and nods. "Yes," she replies softly, then repeats louder, "Yes." Smiling a little, she reaches over Jake to take one of Ezekiel's hands, feeling the faint calluses on his fingertips, and he grins, squeezing her fingers. "My boys."

"Sure, Red. We're yours," he agrees.

For a moment, they lay quietly, holding to each other closely, sharing warmth and joy and love. Cassandra can feel Jake's heartbeat under her cheek, matching her own pulse, and Ezekiel's, too.

And then Ezekiel raises his head and asks, "Okay, so, where's my morning shag? I was promised a morning shag."

Cassandra collapses into laughter against Jake as he rolls his eyes in fond exasperation. "Okay, Zeke," she giggles, pulling her hand free of his and leaning forward to kiss him.

Ezekiel kisses her back, then looks up at Jake with a smile. "And this time, _I'm_ going in the middle."


End file.
